


Red Christmas

by ladybuggyboo



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Aged Up, Angst, F/M, Mystery, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, good luck to us all, love square, so i hope it turns out ok?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybuggyboo/pseuds/ladybuggyboo
Summary: Marinette has gotten herself into a tricky situation...to say the least, and Adrien is the only person who can see her. It isn’t every day you get yourself turned into a ghost and reunite with your childhood crush of years past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is an AU set years after high school. The premise of this story will be starkly different from the original show, as is my intent.  
> Originally posted December 26, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It begins: where our heroes reunite, but as heroes no more

The first stars of Christmas Eve twinkled their way into an unusually luminous sky, a sky that a pair of unusually luminous blue eyes fixated on. Moments passed until the clock slowly eased its way past midnight into Christmas, the lamps lining the lonely street flickering on to illuminate a stilled, broken girl. The light glimpsed off her hair in a rich blue sheen, and revealed the deep pooling red beneath her. A shadow quietly slipped away into a side alley, clenched hand dripping with the red of another, as the night’s second star blinked into the sky.

**~ ☆ ~**

Bag in hand, sleep in his eyes, Adrien stumbled to the door of the gym. He hadn’t intended on that late night nap he just woke up from. He also hadn’t intended on his excursion late last night with a spirit, ghost, soul, or whatever you wish to call it. How long had it been since he could See? Years? Decades?...it had certainly felt like decades since he last left Paris, never to return.

Adrien’s arm reached up to massage the crick out of his neck, forming an all too familiar motion. He had shook that nervous habit now, just as he shook away all past waves of the nostalgia symptomatic of leaving his hometown. Nostalgia, melancholy: they were such queer feelings, unsoothable pangs and aches in the heart. It never got easier, remembering and trying to remember. He felt that he was missing something, and he tried to remember. But that brought nostalgia, which only harbored _unwanted_ memories. Shortly before his father’s death (or as some insisted, his disappearance), Adrien had felt a shift in his life. Too small for his perception, but somehow instrumental enough that he innately felt it shook him to his core. He thought, no he _knew_ , that something, a key piece of him, was missing. But at the same time he had never felt so overwhelmingly complete and completely overwhelmed.

Finally pulling himself out of his thoughts, Adrien pushed his way out the door, the cold winter wind biting him to his senses as he closed up shop. A spirit nagged at him, repeatedly jostling the cheery bell that hung on the door, eliciting a heavy sigh from the blond that puffed in the chill night air. The ghosts were awfully persistent this year, more so than the usual holiday prodding. The spirit last night hadn’t left him alone until after hours of banging. He never quite knew what they wanted from him, but he knew one thing for sure: he wished that they would just leave him alone. He couldn’t hear them, speak to them, and on the occasion he could hardly even see some, what was he supposed to do with that?

Adrien looked northward out towards the wise face of Big Ben, and he started on the brisk walk home. Big Ben was comforting, in the sense that it was something ever constant. Adrien couldn’t even trust himself anymore. He knew something about himself was different, but he just couldn’t understand it. It frustrated him to no end, which he was convinced would be the cause of his future self’s frown lines.

The blond’s face was now in a frown at the thought of frown lines. This was so unlike him, or at least unlike Parisian him. Snow crunching beneath his boots, Adrien headed northward home, the face of Big Ben looming larger with each block. His route home took him past Park Plaza, which was usually empty by the time he was homebound. A glimmer of...something caught his eye, somehow, oddly. It was a girl, curled up on the ground, and the glimmer reflecting was from her hair. The sheen of that hair was an all too familiar deep blue. He cried out a name from the past,  a name that was once so familiar. Hearing no answer, Adrien squared his shoulders and strode slowly, cautiously towards the figure in the snow.  It seems like nostalgia came to personally welcome him tonight on Christmas.

**~ ☆ ~**

The first thing Marinette saw when she awoke was the night sky. A wave of deja vu hit her...but something was off. This sky was different. The stars did not sing as merrily as they did in the Parisian night sky. In fact, she could barely see this sky’s twinkle at all. And there was no fluffy layer snow blanketing the ground her, just a crinkling layer of sludging ice.

Where was she?

A little voice inside whispered, almost teased: _you're not at home anymore Marinette._

She was startled by the single, booming tenor of a bell’s chime, echoing nearby. The source was a clock tower looming tall, its stern face shining brighter than the moon, whose glow glinted off the clock’s metallic precipice. Something about the sturdy tower demanded her gaze, stopping her eyes upon its ticking hands. Maybe it was the glow, the moon the stars, but it was something under the same sky.

The images felt familiar, but just didn’t click in her head, which felt a bit woozy, and still the question remained: where was she?

 _London?_ She could only stare dumbfounded out into the sky of a foreign city she only knew of from the books and tales.

“Marinette...”

There it was, a faded echo of her name. Or rather she thought that’s what she had heard.

“Marinette!” She jolted: this time the voice was louder, and she was positive that she had heard it. And to her utter surprise, she fell right through the ground. The voice screamed, and she heard a thud, which she presumed to be the voice falling too. Marinette knew she should be surprised, since after all, the concrete had eaten her up to her chest.

And then suddenly she found that she was no longer swallowed up by the ground. She blinked. _What in the world?..._

To the left, a pained groan drew her attention to a rumpled pile of winter coat, spilled bag, and ragged boy. Marinette almost didn’t recognize him, and she wouldn’t have had she not stared for year after year, memorizing his features.

“A..drien?” She barely managed to eke out a response. How long had it been since she had talked to him, seen him, or even heard from him? _Far too long I’m afraid..._

The boy that had been picking himself up and dusting off suddenly froze like a pond brushed by winter’s breeze. “What...did you just say?”

Marinette took a deep shuddering sigh, eyes darting back and forth, hands fidgeting, arms trembling. Her nervous ticks were coming back full force. _Damnit, I thought I had gotten over this_ — _gotten over him_ — _already._ Old habits really do die hard, at least more so than her own self.

“What I said w-was,” a deep inhale, and then she exhaled out his name: “Adrien.” There. She did it. A single word without a stutter. Great. Alya would be _so_ proud.

“You...you’re.” She could almost feel his mouth go dry. Laughing nervously, Marinette dare broached the subject of what had just happened moments before...her _falling_ through the ground.

“So uh...did that actually happen? Hallucination? Yes, no? Please tell me you didn’t just see that.” The girl trailed off as she saw the state her companion was in.

At this point, Adrien was wound up so tightly, fists tensing upon his knees. His eyes widened, his breath heaved, and that was when Marinette knew what she thought had just happened _really_ happened. Looking down at her body, she noticed for the first time that she could see past, no through, herself.

She inspected herself, raising a hand to the sky to see what the stars would like through herself. Filmy, ever moving, her spirit hand was a filter over the stars, like the river that rippled your view of water beneath. As she wandered through the forest of thoughts, her eyes lost focus, and her legs found themselves beginning to sink back through the snow, into the ground.

Then there was a silence.

The ragged breathing beside her had stopped, as Adrien scooped himself back upright. And when he saw her sinking back into the ground, he had turned and ran before Marinette could even process what was happening.

The clock ticked. Moments past. The moon began to glower, and Marinette was alone, and quite shocked. _That wasn’t really Adrien just now, was it?_

Marinette wanted to sit on the ground, and pout. She was twenty-four and she was going to pout all she wanted. It had been years since they had last seen each other, and this was his response? The Adrien now was...a little different, it seemed. He still had the friendly aura around him but most noticeably, the past traces of sadness seemed much more tightly laced, almost like a corset slowly squeezing in on him. Lying back down, she closed her eyes to clear her mind as she felt the moon shine on her lids. For a brief moment, the air around her crackled and swished, swirling around like winds from a different world altogether, until the wind’s breath finally stilled, and she felt the familiar aura of London settle again.

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open, and suddenly the night was a lot darker than before. Marinette found herself lying in an alleyway beneath the shadow of a building, among mud and muck where the snow had already melted. “Ack!” Disgusted, she leaped up trying to slap the sludge off, only to find that there was none. _Right...that does not apply to me anymore, whatever I’ve become._

Cautiously...carefully, she crept towards the junction of alleyway and lamp-lit street, and peeped around the corner. In the distance, she saw Adrien’s running figure disappearing around a corner.

 _Should I follow him? It’s not like I have anywhere else to go...or do. I guess I’ll just...follow him._ His footprints in the smattering of leftover snow led her along a faint, but sure path, shaking off the shabby neighborhood she was in, towards a sector where the homes were bigger, warmer, and cleaner. Of course.

She saw Adrien climbing up a set of stairs, and then disappear behind the door. Taking the same path he took, Marinette tiptoed up the stairs up to what she presumed was his front door. Hopefully? _Oh no, what if he has a girlfriend, what if this is his girlfriend’s apartment!? What am I doing here? I should go, oh but, where to go? I..._

Deciding that she really had nothing to lose, Marinette prepared herself to knock. Whipping her head back and forth, she surveyed the area to see if anyone was there...which she later realized was probably useless since most people don’t see ghosts. _Then why...Adrien?_ She supposed that would be another story for another day.

 _Ok Marinette, you can do this. It’s just Adrien._ She steeled her nerves, taking slow breaths in and out. _Just Adrien who happens to be your past childhood crush, and who by the way is still as gorgeous as ever. Just Adrien who might have an equally gorgeous girlfriend, living in this apartment right now. No need to freak out, not at all, not one bit._

 _You stop that!_ The voice was so sudden and commanding she wasn’t even sure if it was her or not. But that was a valid point. She had nothing to lose, and shakily prepared herself to knock.

Out of habit, or perhaps forgetfulness, she absent-mindedly raised her fist and brought it with a snap to the door. And to her utter surprise, her ghost knuckles somehow rapped out three quick knocks. She could knock! It was certainly a start.

She heard Adrien’s muffled voice behind the door: “Oh wow, the midnight pizza got here fast.” Oh no, he thought she was the pizza man. She quickly turned away, acutely intent on leaving the scene, but she was too late—the door had already swung open. It was an alligator’s jaws hinging open to greet her certain doom.

Marinette heard a strangled gargle, and she peeked back towards the door. What she saw, she was definitely not ready to see: a dripping Adonis, toweling off his showered hair, sweats hanging low, and most of all— _shirtless_ and _glistening_ . The boy—no, man now—had definitely grown into his lanky build since she last saw him. Beauty-stricken girl stood frozen for a second, an eon, a millisecond, it didn’t matter. Her face bloomed red, almost glowed. Too many thoughts whizzed through Marinette’s scattered, incoherent brain: _hmm, ghosts can blush...he looks...what? No what I’m not, whuu??_

She _eeped_ and slapped her hands to her eyes, but again, she was already too late. The blooming blush had already migrated to her neck, and upwards to burn the tips of her ears. He had already taken his toll on her, and there was no telling when she would recover. When she finally released her eyes and face from her fingers’ vise-like grips, he was already gone, the doorway empty, but left strangely open. And then he came back, but perhaps a little too soon for his own blush to subside, and certainly too soon for Marinette’s to even cool. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), he was wearing a shirt this time.

Eyes averted, arm raised to his rub his neck in his customary bashfulness as he invited her inside, Marinette could almost see the young Adrien in him, the Adrien she had first met a decade ago. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She stepped across the threshold into a world unknown.

**~ ☆ ~**

With the fireplace cheerily crackling, and the flames casting a warm glow around the sitting room, it almost could have been a cozy Christmas night, if not for the nervous tension icing the two. They had settled on the same long couch, Marinette huddled in one corner and Adrien in another, an awkward distance separating them. If you looked closely, you might have been able to see the oscillating hues of pink, red, and blush smattered across the cheeks.

Marinette cleared her throat, “So you’re saying...I’m a ghost.” Adrien nodded. He was surprised that she was taking it so well, although her appearance had really thrown himself into shock as well. He hadn’t expected the ghosts of his past to confront him...quite so literally. It was also the first time that he could actually directly interact and talk with a ghost. That was new. He supposed it could be that he actually knew Marinette. But still, the ghost of an old friend is not really something that bodes well.

He knew he had to keep it cool, if not for his own sake but for Marinette’s as well. He shrugged, turning away to stare at the ground, not really knowing how to respond.

“Er...” Green eyes shifted their attention back to the spirit. “So, how exactly can you see me? And when exactly did this start? Or rather, how h-have you been, excuse my manners, I completely forgot to ask.” She continued to prattle on, anxiously trying to fill the silence, which was bored into the stale air by Adrien’s unwavering gaze. Now that she was alone with him, in his apartment, her stuttering splattered throughout her sentences, her fingers wandered and fidgeted about his couch, and his somber silence certainly wasn’t helping. She tried to kill the silence again. “Or, uh, Cerry Mistmas! Uh, y-you know what I mean, I —”

Adrien cut her off with a glance of a worried look. He sighed. He groaned. He had no idea what to do. “I think the more important questions here is,” stated with a note of weariness, “how you ended up like this.” She thought she saw concern flicker in the depths of his green eyes.

She blinked, her fidgeting suddenly stilled. Marinette almost found it funny, her current situation. “I guess you’re right,” she conceded. “But I actually have no idea. Now what are we going to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be posted on Christmas but...nevertheless I hope you still enjoyed it anyway, if you made it this far!  
> Originally posted December 26, 2016


End file.
